


The Thunder Before the Lightning

by colinmorgaan



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Crying, Emotional Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Magic Reveal, Merthur - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 05:10:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7209026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colinmorgaan/pseuds/colinmorgaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is afraid of thunderstorms. Merlin stops the rain.</p><p><em>or,</em> It’s the strongest thunderstorm Camelot has ever seen and just as Merlin thought, Arthur is terrified. Being the only one who knows this about Arthur, Merlin goes to comfort him. Something about the frequency of the thunder makes the two boys feel like it’s too loud for anyone to hear their secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thunder Before the Lightning

**Author's Note:**

> I probably used some terms that we're non-existent during the canon era. Bear with me.
> 
> Also, Sir Almalmal isn't someone you should be concerned about. My friend just absolutely had to be somewhere in the story. That's her nickname. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Merlin is weighing his options here. Which is louder - the thunder or the voice in his head that keeps saying _you have to get to Arthur_? He closes his eyes and brings his fingers to rest on his temples. He can feel the power of the storm, he can feel its intensity, its anger. He can feel it for so far, miles even. Then he can feel Arthur, he can feel his fear, his cowering, his loneliness; really that’s more than enough to have him pushing himself up and out of bed.

He doesn’t bother changing out of his night clothes, just throws on his boots and jacket before covering himself with a poncho that Gaius had given him a few years back. Warmth wasn’t really a matter of concern; it was pouring outside but it was mid-summer and Merlin had never felt it so hot. This, of course, filled Merlin with excitement. Not because it was warm or because he liked rain, just that when you mix the two, Arthur’s hair frizzes beyond control. Arthur has tried every serum, every potion, every pile of goop you can find in the woods - nothing has tamed it. Merlin smiled at the thought before gently closing the door behind him and setting off for Arthur’s chambers.

It wasn’t exactly pleasant. No, actually, it wasn’t at all pleasant. The nearest entrance to the castle wasn’t far but vision is almost impossible with no fire and with the rain pouring down as it is, staying dry is out of the question. When he finally reaches the castle doors he is greeted by two knights, one of which he recognises as Sir Almalmal, both hunched under the small covering the entrance offers. He lowers his hood and reveals his face, automatically being granted access.

The walk from there to Arthur’s chambers wasn’t short but at least he had the fortuity of a roof over his head. It didn’t really matter at this point though, as Merlin was leaving a trail of water behind him, his shoes swooshing with each step he took. He was left alone with his thoughts, wondering if it would be insulting to tell Arthur he’d come here because he knew that Arthur would be cowering by himself and if so, what excuse should he make? Arthur’s fire could be running low, he thinks, so he takes a short detour. When he reaches the supply room, he shoves some firewood under his arm and, before leaving, throws an extra fur over his shoulder - just in case.

His hands are full so he closes the door behind him with a quick flash of gold eyes. Back on his intended course, he picks up his pace, eager to sit the logs down that are beginning to make his shoulders burn. He probably laughs too hard at the irony that _they_ will be the ones burning soon enough. Eventually, he does reach Arthur’s chambers but not before he’s dropped a log twice and tripped over it once. You’d think he’d be more agile, being the most powerful man to exist and all. He considers knocking before realising, well - he can’t, so he simply nudges the door open with his dripping boot and waddles his way into Arthur’s chambers.

Where, of course, Arthur is wide awake, sitting up and wrapped in his blanket like it’s stronger than the walls that surround him. He jumps, almost, when Merlin closes the door behind him.

“Sire, I-” Merlin is frantically searching for the excuse he had conjured up only minutes ago. “I thought you might like some more firewood.”

Arthur slightly sniffles before regathering himself. “The fire’s fine, Merlin. You put extra wood in tonight, remember?”

Merlin didn’t remember. “Oh, yes. I suppose I’ll just be going then.” He turns on his heels, red faced but is stopped by a quiet plea of _”wait”_.

“Maybe you should stay, actually.” Arthur tells Merlin as he turns to meet his face again. “Ju-just until the rain slows a bit. I think if your ratted clothes take another beating they might fall apart.”

“Of course,” Merlin nods his head, flinging little drops of water onto Arthur’s floor.

“Go on, sit by the fire and dry yourself.”

Merlin does what Arthur tells him for once, a bit too dumbstruck that Arthur had actually asked him to stay. As the storm brews on and the fire dims down, Merlin is beginning to think that that is the last thing Arthur might ever say to him. He dips his head down, slightly because he doesn’t know what to do and slightly because he hopes it might help his hair dry. It doesn’t last long though because, frankly, Merlin can’t keep his eyes off of the way Arthur’s muscles tense when his chambers fill with brightness from the lightning or the way he jumps, ever so slightly, when the thunder booms with an intensity that makes the fire logs shake.

Merlin thinks it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen - to see someone so strong and so brave finally let themselves cower and fear. Seeing Arthur fall vulnerable to the unmistakable power above him showed more bravery than Merlin would ever be able to explain to him.

 _”Everyone has their place, Merlin.”_ Arthur had once said to him. _”It’s just about knowing what that place is.”_

The storm hovering above them only gave Arthur modesty; it told him that there are some things even the great King Arthur cannot defeat. Merlin could only wish that Arthur would learn gratefulness - learn to be thankful that there is always something more powerful than him, greater than him, that can hold the responsibilities he does not wish to bear. Merlin sighs.

“You know, if I didn’t know it was pouring buckets out there, I would think you were soaked by your own tears. What is it that you’re moping about?” Arthur finally breaks the silence.

Merlin snaps his head up out of his own daze. “Nothing, my Lord. It is nothing.”

“Arthur,” Arthur says. “Call me Arthur.” And Merlin wonders if the great storm takes away from his honor, wonders if it makes him feel small and insignificant in the part he plays against it.

“Arthur,” Merlin says in unison with the mightiest roll of thunder Merlin has ever heard. He sees Arthur’s eyes go wide as he jumps and wraps himself further into his blanket. Merlin realises that the fire has fallen weak when he sees Arthur shaking, though he knows that is not the reason why.

“Arthur,” he tries again. “You don’t have to be so brave all the time.” He must be losing his mind as he stands up and walks closer to Arthur’s bed.

“On the contrary,” Arthur says. “A King must be the bravest of them all. He mustn't show fear to his people, he must stand tall and be courageous against whatever he may face. He cannot be afraid of what he cannot control.”

Merlin only sighs before replying, “You are not the King of Mother Nature, herself. In fact, you are but a mere a speck of matter in the vast valley of things of which she reigns. She can wipe away your entire kingdom with a swift blow of her breath, yet she has chosen only to grace you with a thunderstorm. You should be grateful that she has graced you with such mercy.” Merlin looks at him with faith. “Arthur, it’s just me here. That’s never stopped you from doing anything before.”

Arthur looks at him with a look that can only be described as _”you are so wise, yet I cannot tell you so”_. Merlin has seen that look many times and can only respond to it with a small and reassuring smile - one that Arthur has seen many times.

They stay like that for a long moment, staring at each other with such familiarity that it feels as though everything alien to them has disappeared.

It isn’t until Arthur clears his throat and looks toward his vanity that either of them blink. Merlin’s eyes are watery and burning when Arthur says, “Perhaps you should borrow a pair of my night wear trousers. Yours don’t seem to be drying all that well.”

Merlin peers up at him with curiosity but is only met with a stern, “Well, go on then, you know where they are.”

Merlin nods and naturally finds himself digging behind Arthur’s dress shirts to find a pair of the soft linen trousers Arthur spoke of. He can feel Arthur watching him as he strips of everything but his pants and slides the linen above his hips, tightening the drawstrings. When he looks back to meet Arthur’s eyes, he is met with a nod; it is a simple gesture that Merlin knows to mean _sit with me_. So he does, he sits next to Arthur on the far side of the bed and wonders if Arthur can feel the warmth radiating off of him like Merlin can feel it radiating off of Arthur.

This has only happened once before - a night that many call Camelot’s Twilight. For it had been Camelot’s darkest hour and then it’s lightest. It was the night Uther, Arthur’s father, had died.

Arthur had held himself together with a force that Merlin had never seen him use before the whole evening and ceremony through. He had spoken of good times, better times and hardships, not only to his peers but to his people. He had accepted the sympathy, accepted the sorrow from all - all except the feelings that were aching in his own chest.

When the time came for bed, Merlin had tucked Arthur in and squeezed his arm gently before saying, “Goodnight, Sire.”, and turning to leave. He didn’t make it very far before Arthur was pulling him back, tears welling in his eyes when he cracked out, “Please don’t leave me here, Merlin, please.”

Merlin’s chest had burned with such fire that he knew that even if all the forces of nature had come together and pulled at him until he was ripped in half, he wouldn’t leave Arthur. “I won’t, ever.” He had replied and Arthur had pulled him down with all his strength. He was enveloped in sheets with Arthur’s limbs squeezing him when Arthur had whispered, just loud enough for Merlin to hear, “I just need you here.” So he was there.

Ever since that night, Merlin has been there when Arthur feared even the slightest thing. Gaius jokes that Merlin has become some sort of nanny, catering to Arthur like he was a child, but after seeing the brokenness in Arthur’s eyes he just… can’t bring himself to not be there when Arthur cowers beneath his own fear.

Merlin is saved from his own thoughts when Arthur says, “Why are you here, Merlin? Why did you come here, tonight?”

“I told you, I thought your fire might be getting low.”

“No Merlin,” Arthur sighs. “Why did you _really_ come here tonight?”

Merlin replicates Arthur’s sigh. “I keep asking myself that… but I already know the answer.”

“And it is?”

There is a pause. “Sometimes you see things you don’t want to see… a-and other times, you’re grateful you’re the only person in the world who did see it.” Another pause. Arthur seems to have finally learned patience. “Arthur, I.. I know you’re terrified of storms. I know they make you jump and shake until your muscles hurt. I know they fill you with fear - real, genuine fear. And I’ve seen that fear in your eyes, I’ve seen how it breaks you, how it cripples your emotions. I swore that I’d always be there. I know how it makes you lonely… I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re alone.”

Then there is silence. So much silence that Merlin thinks it might spread and push away the storm until it can never reach them again. Merlin’s courage hasn’t faded entirely, so he looks up at Arthur and realises Arthur is already looking at him, disbelief coursing through his eyes. They soften when Merlin’s eyes meet them. Arthur bites his lip and tries to choke back a sob.

“Merlin, y-you,” He tries to say. “I-I told you that I needed you because… because without you I would be so alone. I would. You’re all I have.” Arthur clenches at the sheets below him as the wind howls.

Now Merlin is the one with disbelief coursing through his veins. “Arthur, no. No, you have the knights, and Gwen and Gaius. You have the loyalty of every person in Camelot. They would all lay down their life for your own.”

Arthur snorts. He actually snorts and then squeezes his eyes shut. “Not for _my_ life. They would all lay down their life for their _King’s_ life. And they would do that with me as their King, or with you as their King, or Gwaine or Leon or any random man that you can point your finger at. Because Camelot cannot be without its King. _They_ cannot be without their King. It needn’t matter who that King is.” Arthur stares down at the sheets covering him. “They all would lay down their own lives - the ones full of memories and love - for a life they know nothing about.”

“Arthur,” Merlin begins but Arthur stops him.

“No Merlin.” He says. “They offer their lives because that is what is expected of them, they offer their lives for my title.” He pauses, again. “You’re the only person, Merlin. You’re the only person that I know would lay down your life for _me_. You would lay down your life because you value me being alive, not just because I am your King. You’ve shown me how much you care for me, as a person.” Another pause. “Merlin, I tell you to call me ‘Arthur’ because that’s who I feel like I am to you.”

Merlin inhales with a gasp. Deep down, Merlin knows all this. He knows that Arthur feels like he is all he has. It’s just never hit him like this. He never thought he would hear Arthur say these things to him with complete compassion and honesty. His chest feels tight and burns with so much heat that everything in his vision blurs into red. He pulls his knees up to his chest and tries to steady his breathing.

All this time he’s been trying, just _trying_ to break through Arthur’s walls, wanting Arthur to let him in. The claws of his heart have grown worn from countless nights of scratching at Arthur’s walls, desperately hoping to create even the slightest give.

Now Arthur is here, holding the claws down and whispering his secrets into Merlin’s ear. He’s giving and giving and _giving_ because that is all Arthur knows how to do and Merlin hasn’t even offered him anything for the taking.

He lets out a muffled sob, his lips tight and eyes burning because he finally gained Arthur’s trust and Merlin feels like that’s the only good thing he has ever done in his life.

Then he lets out another sob because Arthur obviously trusts him with everything he has and now… now Merlin’s the one who doesn’t trust him. He swallows down his sobs and brings his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Merl-”

“Why are you telling me this now?” Merlin slurs into one quick breath. “Why now? What makes a person decide when to tell someone… something so significant.”

Arthur sucks in a breath and then lets it out with a sigh that helps chill the heat in Merlin’s chest. “Wh- when I was a small boy… my father used to tell me that thunderstorms were my mother. He told me they were my mother and that she was showing me the great power she had in the afterlife; she was showing me how could she protect me.” He pauses and licks his lips. “In the ways, of course, that my father couldn’t. Every time it stormed, I felt safe. I would wake up more courageous and stronger. Nothing could hurt me as long as my mother was there.”

Arthur let his head hang and sniffled, rubbing his tired eyes. _More courageous._ Merlin reaches out and squeezes Arthur shoulder. When Arthur looks up at him with recognition, Merlin nods gently and flashes him that small, reassuring smile he knows Arthur values.

“But now-” Arthur stops and sits up again. “Now, it doesn’t feel like her. It feels like him. It feels like my father. And I can feel his anger and his wrath. I can feel his destruction, his want to destroy everything I’ve created. I can feel _deep_ , in my chest, his disappointment in, not only the King, but _everything_ I have become. He haunts me, Merlin.” Arthur chokes out. “Even after death, he has done nothing but remind me I will never become the King he was.”

“Arth-”

“I wanted you here, Merlin.” Arthur blurts out. “Thunderstorm’s remind me of everything bad and you, Merlin… you remind me of everything good. And when this storm started to roll in, I didn’t want extra guards or linen to put in my ears or a sleeping potion from Gaius. Hell, I didn’t even want it to be my mom. I just wanted you, Merls.” He looked at Merlin for a split second before letting his head down again. “When you put extra logs in the fire tonight, I knew that meant you didn’t plan on coming back and then when you walked through that door,” Arthur chuckled a bit. “Well, my first instinct was to kick you out. But then you started to leave and… I’ve never wanted anything in my life more than I wanted you to stay. And you did. And now here we are.”

“Yeah,” Merlin chokes out. “Here we are.”

Because, yeah, here they are. He just said it and yet it doesn’t feel real. He laughs then because he can talk to dragons and yet, _this_ doesn’t feel real. The heat returns to his chest because that’s another thing he didn’t trust Arthur enough to tell him. Arthur is spilling out his secrets like grains of rice and Merlin is keeping his buried in the deepest depths of the Earth.

Merlin pulls his knees in closer to his chest and thinks of his mother, his father, Gaius... the sadness filling in his chest is enough to have his chest rising and falling in a way that even Arthur notices.

“Merlin? Merlin.” Arthur whispers. “Tell me about your mother.”

Merlin sucks in a breath in shock. “My mother?”

“Yes,” Arthur says. “Tell me what it was like to have a mother.”

“Okay,” Merlin agrees and suddenly his brain is bouncing around a world of memories trying to decide where to land. “We never had a lot.” He starts. “We didn’t have much of anything but - the home we lived in was so tiny,” He chuckles. “It was almost like we had too much of everything.” Merlin says and Arthur is looking at him with such interest that Merlin’s heart flutters. “I didn’t know though, really, until I was older. I mean, I always had everything I needed: food, water, shelter, clothing. When the time came for me to come to Camelot, all she had left to give me was a backpack. We didn’t have the money to buy one, so she took the cloth from one of her dresses to make it.” Merlin chuckles with wet eyes.

“You take that thing everywhere with you.” Arthur says.

“It’s the only piece of home I have.” _Except Ealdor doesn’t feel like home anymore._ Merlin thinks. _You do._

“Do I?” Arthur replies and suddenly Merlin can’t breath because he didn’t think it. He said it out loud. He tries to gain his breath, laugh or have _some_ type of reaction but before he can, Arthur places a hand on his shoulder and takes every thought away from him. “It’s okay, Merlin. The only thing I don’t go anywhere without is, is-,” Arthur stops, bites his lip and then almost laughs at himself. “Is you. You’re my home, too.”

“Arthur, I’m not your home.” Merlin objects. “I- I can’t be. I’m just your manservant, that’s all-”

“No,” Arthur interrupts. “You’re my home.” He reaches his arm out and runs his thumb over Merlin’s cheekbones, tracing his features until he reaches Merlin’s bottom lip. Merlin believes him with everything that he has. “I am surrounded by my biggest fear and yet… all I can feel or think about,” he pauses, “is you.” He draws his hand back slowly. Merlin’s lip feels so cold then and his mind is screaming _come back_.

“I’m right here.” Arthur says and Merlin realises his mind has spoken out loud for him again. “I want to be here for you like you are here for me. Tell me more about Ealdor.”

Merlin’s last memory of Ealdor was losing Will. But before that, Arthur, Morgana and Gwen joining him in the fight against the evils facing his home town. He remembers Arthur looking at him like he was crazy and then looking at him like he was even crazier when he assumed that Arthur wouldn’t be fighting with him. He puts those memories aside and tries to focus on what Ealdor was before Arthur.

“I was different from the other kids.” Merlin jumps in instantly without realising it. “My ears were much perkier than theirs.” _No,_ Merlin thinks to himself. _Quit hiding yourself. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing._ “There were other things though. There was something different about me and the other kids knew it. My mother knew it too. I think that’s why she sent me here, to Camelot.” _I know that’s why she sent me to Camelot._

“The other kids never discluded me, though, my mother made sure of that. I had just as many friends as anyone else but the only one whoever stuck was Will. I trusted him.” _Don’t you trust Arthur?_ “He knew everything about me.” _So does Arthur. Except he doesn’t._

“It took time but… eventually we came to know everything about each other. Everything from favourite colours to our deepest fears.” _Thunderstorms._ Merlin wonders if it was him when a strike of lightning flashes just outside of Arthur’s window. Arthur jumps and inches closer to Merlin.

“What is your favourite colour, Merlin?” Arthur asks slowly.

Merlin looks up at Arthur’s eyes and decides, “Blue.”

Arthur furrows his eyebrows. “I never knew.” He breathes. “I never asked.” His eyebrows relax and he begins to reach out to Merlin again but hastily draws his hand back to his side. “What’s your biggest fear?”

_Losing you._

This time Merlin makes sure he doesn’t say it out loud. He shakes his head.

“I trusted him.” Merlin goes for instead. “He made me feel safe from my different qualities until I learned to embrace them.”

“Hm.” Arthur hums out weakly. He sighs. 

“Arthur, that’s not what I mea-”

“No, but it’s true, isn’t it?” Arthur says sadly. “You don’t trust me. I’ve never given you a reason to.” He pauses and Merlin is searching for words. “You speak so highly of the people that you trust, Merlin. Your eyes light up and the words come out so fluently. There isn’t a doubt in your mind about these people.” His eyes are watering. “It must be the greatest privilege a man can have to hold your trust.”

 _I trust you,_ Merlin wants to say, but does he?

“Ar-”

“No, Merlin, I understand.” Arthur chokes out. “What have I ever earned from you? You bring me breakfast and do my laundry but… I didn’t earn those. A slap in the face, maybe, that’s what I _deserve_ from you.” He pauses and wipes his eyes. “Everything you do, you do for me and if it’s not for me, it’s for one of my people. Yet, I can’t even drop my ego for long enough to say thank you.” Arthur rolls over and sits up on the side of the bed. His eyes are red and watery; the sight is bringing tears to Merlin’s eyes again. “I’ve saved your life so many times, risked my life for yours so many times but when people ask me why… the only reason I ever tell them is, ‘it would be a pain to find another manservant as loyal as you’. That’s not why I do it, Merlin.”

Arthur stands up and runs his fingers through his hair. “I do it because your life is worth a thousand of mine.” He closes his eyes and tears cascade down his long eyelashes. “What even is my life without yours? Messy, maybe. Thoughtless, reckless, selfish.” Thunder booms but Arthur doesn’t jump this time. “Everything I don’t want to be. Everything you aren’t, Merlin.” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again. There are no tears this time.

“I do trust you, Arthur. I don’t just talk of my mother or Will with anyone.” Merlin says.

Arthur glances up at him quickly and Merlin almost sees relief in them but then doubt quickly covers it and he drops his head again.

“Why?” Arthur whispers. “What have I done to deserve your trust?”

Merlin searches through many reasons for the one that he wants to give. He tosses out the obvious ones, the not-so-obvious ones and then he gathers them all together again and in one final answer he says, “Exist.” Arthur turns his head quickly to meet Merlin’s eyes. Merlin’s eyes gaze down Arthur’s uncovered torso, stopping where Arthur’s hands now meet his hips. “Just existing, that’s all you had to do to earn my trust.”

“Merlin.” Arthur says but Merlin ignores him. Merlin tones the voice out that he loves so much and buries himself so deeply inside of his own head that he finds himself and his memories as the only figures of existence.

He goes back to the beginning, to the time his mother spilled boiling water on herself when Merlin was three years old - except she didn’t because Merlin’s eyes flashed a bright gold and everything was frozen in mid-air.

He goes back to being seven and secluded, knowing no one but himself as the other kids play games and go fishing. He sees a small boy approach him and offer him an apple. They become his favourite for the rest of his life but he doesn’t know that the small boy will only be his best friend for a portion of it.

He goes back to being eleven and knowing nothing and everything at the same time. _“You have magic, Merlin, there’s nothing wrong with that!”_ His mother tells him. _“Then why can’t I tell them?”_ He asks her. She doesn’t reply and he doesn’t ask again.

He goes back to being sixteen and conflicted because Will didn’t know Merlin magic until he almost falls into a freezing pond and suddenly his best friends eyes are flashing gold and he’s falling forwards instead of backwards. _"I was scared you’d hate me."_ He tells him. _"How could anyone hate you?"_

He goes back to his mother kissing him goodbye and his long trip to Camelot for the first time and a bed sliding across the room. _"I was born with it!"_ He defends. _"That’s impossible!"_ It wasn’t and nothing ever was after that.

He goes back to a dragon and his destiny and saving a prat’s life and two sides of the same coin. He remembers disagreeing and arguing until he doesn’t want to anymore. _"Most people would consider it an honour."_ Gaius tells him. It was dirty socks and constant complaining.

He goes back to the unicorn and Arthur killing it and the ache that had filled his chest. The warnings and the misery and then finally the acts of true character. It was there that he had decided that if he was choosing between magic and Arthur, he would choose Arthur. _"I’m glad you’re here, Merlin."_ There isn’t anywhere he would have rather been.

He goes back to every adventure, experience and interaction he’s had with Arthur. He feels every emotion he felt, he hears every word Arthur has said to him. Anger, care, embarrassment, sadness, love. He goes back to falling in love.

He goes back to tonight and the only thing on his mind being Arthur and sitting by the fire and then on Arthur’s bed in Arthur’s clothes and Arthur doing nothing but caring for him. He’s keeping secrets from the one person he trusts with his life. Confessions and tears and Arthur speaking more compassionately than Merlin has ever heard. Going into his own thoughts while Arthur calls out-

“Merlin!” Arthur says frantically. Merlin’s eyes shoot open quickly. Arthur is kneeling down in front of where Merlin is sat on the bed with pale skin. Arthur’s face contorts from one of concern to one of relief. He lets out a breath before reaching out and pulling Merlin into the tightest embrace Merlin has ever been in. “Damn it, Merlin, don’t do that to me again.” He runs his hands up Merlin’s back and tangles his fingers in Merlin’s hair.

They stay like that for a short time while Merlin gathers his voice. He’s not afraid anymore. He’s seen everything. He trusts Arthur. He _loves_ Arthur. He inhales deeply.

“I have magic.” He says after all this time.

Arthur tenses around Merlin but doesn’t let him go, not for a few seconds. He gradually slides his arms off of Merlin and rests his hands on Merlin’s arms. _”What?”_

“I have ma-”

“No,” Arthur interrupts. “What?!” Arthur stands up quickly. “How could you- How could I have-” Merlin watches as Arthur paces a few steps back and forth before stopping. “Why would you come here?” His face is a look of anger, hurt and worry. “If my father had found out, Merlin! There would have been nothing I could of done, I kept you right under his nose!”

“Arth-”

“What if something had happened to you?” Arthur rushes out. “I couldn’t live with myself, you’re all I have, it would have been my fault.”

“Arthur!” Merlin calls out again. He stands up and pulls Arthur near him until he sits on the bed next to him. “Look at me, I’m fine. I’m right here, I’m safe next to you.” Deep breaths. “I came here because I have a destiny. I guess I didn’t know that until I got here, though. I _stayed_ because I have a destiny and it’s tied directly to yours. I’m here for you.”

Tears well in Arthur’s eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Merlin reaches out for Arthur’s hand. “I wanted to. So badly, I wanted to tell you. There hasn’t been a day since I’ve met you that I haven’t wanted to tell you. But I was afraid, Arthur, I didn’t know how you might react.”

Arthur squeezes Merlin’s hand and replies, “I am not my father, Merlin. I believe that because of you. No one has reassured me of that more than yo-”

“I know, Arthur. I was born with it and it’s part of who I am. I thought you hated magic and…” His voice trails off with a sob.

“No, Merlin, please don’t shed tears.” Arthur pulls Merlin closer and rests his forehead on Merlin’s. “There’s so much I want to say to you.”

Merlin sniffles and replies, “Then say it.”

Arthur only sighs. “I can’t, Merlin. I’m a coward.”

This time it’s Merlin who reaches up and touches Arthur’s features. “Please?”

“Merlin, how would I begin, what if som-”

 _“Rebitcktheqit unrefgripeh,”_ Merlin says quickly and when Arthur looks up he just glimpses Merlin’s eyes turning gold.

“Beautiful,” He whispers before he can stop himself.

“Arthur,” Merlin says. “Look.”

When Arthur looks everything in time is frozen. Outside Arthur’s window the rain is set in it’s place in mid air. “Merlin…”

“It’s just us. There is no time passing around us. There is no living around us. There are no records being kept. Whatever it is you say now will not exist to anyone or anything but us once I return things to their normal state. Please, Arthur.”

Arthur closes his eyes and brings his forehead back to Merlin’s. “Okay,” Arthur nods slightly. He takes in a breath and when he lets it out he says, “I love you.”

Along with everything else, Merlin’s heart stops. He pulls away from Arthur ever so slowly, his lips parted and his eyes shining. He brings his index finger to Arthur’s jaw line and traces down the sharp angle, staring into Arthur's eyes like every secret of the world is hidden in their glimmer. He inches closer until their noses brush and Arthur lets out an exhale.

“Merlin,” Arthur squeaks, just finishing the word before Merlin leans forward and crashes his lips onto Arthur’s. Arthur’s eyes go wide in surprise before fluttering shut as he melts into Merlin’s touch. He follows the way Merlin’s lips part and then come back together to overlap with his own. His lips are chapped and weathered in comparison to Merlin’s soft and full one’s, but it doesn’t stop Merlin from gliding his teeth along Arthur’s bottom lip.

Arthur decides, then, that he’s had enough of Merlin dominating the kiss and pushes Merlin back gradually until he is lying back on the bed and slides his hand up Merlin’s thigh and onto his hip. He deepens the kiss and when Merlin opens his lips to let out a moan, he takes full advantage and entangles his own tongue with Merlin’s. They kiss fiercely and deeply and passionately until they both pull away, panting for air and licking their swollen lips.

Arthur rests on his hip next to Merlin and slightly raises Merlin’s shirt to expose his hip bone. Merlin shudders when he begins to trace patterns onto the prominent area. “It was always you, Merlin.” He says. “From the day you stood up to me for being a prat, it was you.”

Arthur’s heart flutters when a very dazed Merlin replies, “Isn’t that every day?”

“Shut up!” Arthur laughs before pulling Merlin against him.

Merlin rolls over to meet Arthur’s face and pecks his lips softly. “It’s always been you Arthur. Before I knew it was you or even _thought_ it was you. We were stitched into the very fabric of Albion.” He grabs Arthur’s hand and brings it to his lips. “This, us… it is something much greater than even me.”

Arthur pulls his hand from Merlin’s lips and intertwines their fingers. “You don’t have to hide yourself anymore, Merlin. As long as you are you, with or without magic, I will love you. And I will destroy anyone that tries to harm you. I swear.”

Merlin thinks he’s cried more than the sky tonight. With a choked sob he replies, “I love you so much more than a million lifetimes would let me express, Arthur.”

“As long as I have you, I have all the time in the world.” Arthur says to him. He bites his lip. “But Merlin… can you make time pass again? What I feel for you… you make me want to declare it to all of Albion. Time doesn’t belong to just us anymore and I want to share all of this with each passing day.”

“The storm will start again, are you ready now?” Merlin asks him.  
“As long as you’re here.” Arthur replies simply.

Merlin nods and without saying anything, he closes his eyes and lets out a breath from so deep in his lungs, Arthur thinks it must have been there from birth. Just like that, he can hear raindrops pounding against his window again. Like Merlin himself is the human embodiment of time itself, like the very fate of the universe is engraved onto Merlin’s bones, like he, himself, will guide every destiny to it’s final battle.

Arthur can’t believe anything.

“I love you.” Merlin tells him, as if he can hear Arthur’s thoughts. “You give me so much strength.”

Arthur believes everything.


End file.
